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Page 9 - அருங்காட்சியகம் ஆஃப் விமானம் News Today : Breaking News, Live Updates & Top Stories | Vimarsana

8 spots to discover in Seattle Southside - Story Studio – SeattlePI

Sponsored Story By StoryStudio June 8, 2021 7:53 am Photo: Seattle Southside We all have different feelings about traveling right now. When you’re ready, we hope you feel safe, inspired, and excited to explore Seattle Southside. Here’s a local’s secret for you: Believe it or not, some of the Seattle area’s best offerings can be experienced without stepping foot downtown. In Seattle Southside  anchored by the three small cities of SeaTac, Des Moines, and Tukwila you can kayak with seals, feast on some of the Emerald City’s best food, and explore a few of the region’s most extraordinary parks, museums, and cultural touchstones. Bonus: It’s all within a short drive of the airport.

Property Watch: A Modern Stunner in Medina

Is the Marshall Law Band Bringing Home a Pulitzer? We ll Know on June 11

On a dusky Saturday evening under the roof of the cavernous hangar at the Museum of Flight, the Marshall Law Band's frontman Marshall Hugh descended the stairs from the world’s first Boeing 747 with Big Rapper Energy. He wore aviator shades with a third eye lens preening on his forehead and joined a stage crowded with keyboard, saxophone, six-string bass, drums, guitar, and two more vocalists. Over the next hour and change, the normally six-piece.

Why Did the U S Air Force Cancel Its RQ-3 DarkStar Drone?

A Surreal Night at Seattle s First Music Venue to Reopen

It is little surprise that the Little Red Hen returned first; it is a twanging anomaly in the neighborhood, a country bar in an indie city, a squat and aging building across the street from a new mixed-use compound that contains, among other things, a day spa, a Pure Barre studio, a PCC, and a farm-to-table restaurant. At the Hen, the special scrawled on a board is a pound of rib-eye for $19.99—with either fries or salad. Previously its dance floor hosted boot-shod line dances nightly, the city’s oldest honky tonk. Tonight the floor is dancerless, a vacant space given over to a few tables—me at one, the ponytailed guy and the woman with him at another. Nearby a sheet of paper stuck to a post declares: “No Dancing.” Around the room sit other customers, mostly lone men scattered about. A few groups in booths. A couple more guys in back, watching baseball on TV. The place smells less like a deep fryer than I’d expect, more like cleaning products.

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